Hey Helga
by MollyMittens
Summary: What happens when Helga has to face the birth of her first child and the possible death of someone she loves? Read on and find out.
1. NOW

DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor did I create any of the characters here. They all belong to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon respectively.

NOW

Every story has a start. No matter what you hear, see, or read, it has a beginning, middle, and end. It's such a cliché and yet we eat it up like candy. In fact, we won't take anything less.

As soon as someone stops talking we have to ask "yea, and then what?" not realizing that maybe there is no more. It's like we have this endless hunger to know every little detail, forgetting that reality may not provide them. See, that's our problem. We assume that our existence is rapped up in some perfect pink bow like a movie plot. And it isn't. Face it kiddies, we didn't pay admission to get into this flick called life, and I'm not sure how to ask for a refund if we did. All we have to do is stay until the end and hope god holds a Q&A session when the lights go up. That is, if he exists.

It would be easy to think that after the events below I'd start believing in Him. But I don't. So much shit has happened in my life that I can't figure out of it was chance or some white robed sky-high guy. So maybe you can read on and tell me, Helga G. Shortman, why you think it's good idea to have faith.


	2. 8:00PM

8:00PM

The rain poured heavily outside. Huge bullets of water bombed every brick of the boarding house. It sounded like rocks falling. If I hadn't looked outside, I might have thought it was. But Arnold and I had seen the skies rip open well after dinner as we washed the dishes.

He squirted bits of water at me as he smiled, no doubt remembering the episode at Chez Pierre. Even though it took us all night to wash those dishes I still regarded it as one of the best moments of my life. It allowed me to be next to the one person I cared for without acting like a stalker. I also got to show a small bit of my real self to Arnold, and he didn't turn it down. But that's just how he is. No matter who you are in life Arnold Shortman will still find a way to like you.

"Hay football head!" I giggled as I pushed a mound of suds his way. He quickly retaliated with a full blast of water and soon the whole kitchen was awash with dish liquid and suds. Arnold and I laughed like mad as we splashed about, and then, just at the right moment, he went in for the kiss. It was long and full of passion, yet playful like the water fight moments ago.

Pushing me gently against the side of the sink, he ran his hands around my soft body while I smoothed mine around his. I quivered with excitement as he touched my soft arms, as he kissed my waiting neck, and then gingerly moved his hands lower. Nibbling at my ears I made sure to get my paws around his bulge. I wanted to rub it feverishly, I wanted to tare off his pants and have him right on the table beside us. I could feel myself bubbling up inside; I almost screamed his name as his fingers stroked my pussy.

"Fuck the dishes!" I panted heavily, "I want to get you dirty!" He looked around the kitchen a moment for any signs of the other boarders. Finding none, Arnold curved his hands up my thighs until he reached my panties. He drew them down quick while I lowered his jeans, ready to explode the second his dick entered me. _Man your last name is such a misnomer,_ I thought. Man, yes. Short, never.

That's when I felt it, a small spasm. It forced me to brake away from Arnold as it crept around my belly.

"Are you alright?" Arnold asked, now just as scared as I.

"I don't know. I can't tell if it's the baby, or the wings I ate. Maybe I'd better sit." I took out a chair and plopped in, feeling around for any signs of trouble.

"Nope," I burped loudly, "Just gas. Crimeny!" Arnold sat next to me and chuckled. He moved his chair close to mine and started up again, feeling everything he could.

"Oh, I just don't know Arnold. Maybe it's not such a good idea." I said, pushing him away gently.

"You're right. Let's get you to bed. I can finish these." He gently lifted me up and walked me to the pile of stairs just outside the kitchen. Usually I would have swatted his hand away but I was just as nervous as he was. My due date was in a week and I didn't want to chance anything.

Once we reached the top Arnold raised his hand to fish around for the folding steps. I started to wonder what the room would like if we always kept them down. I peered around the hall looking to see if it could afford the space. It was then I shockingly saw grandpa Phil on the floor of his and Gertie's room.

"Oh my god!" I said, suddenly panicked. "It's Phil!"

"What?" Arnold let go of the unfolding steps and rushed to his grandparent's room.

"What happened!" he asked, pressing his warm hands over his grandpa's chest. He pumped once or twice before his grandmother could get the words out.

"I don't know! We were just getting into bed when he fell!" Gertie cried. He pumped a few more times in haste.

"Helga call 911!" he yelled. I dialed fast, detailing everything I knew in short, worried breaths to the dispatcher.

"The Ambulance is on the way!"


	3. 9:00PM

9:00PM

I felt cold inside the Packard. I don't know why, but being in that old car always makes me feel as though I'm freezing even in the depths of summer. I clamped one hand on my coat's zipper to keep warm while the other was rested firmly on Arnold's thigh. He drove fast, fallowing the ambulance as best he could. Like him, I would have loved to ride with Phil. But there was no room after Gertie wedged her way in.

"I hope he's ok," I sighed. Looking at the heavenly colored emergency car made me think of Merriam. She had only been in one of those once, and I could not burn the memory out of my mind.

It was a warm and sunny Saturday in summer. I had plans with Arnold to get pizza so my mood was naturally elevated. I danced around the house as I thought of it, wondering what it would be like. It didn't matter that this would be our umpteenth date or that by the age of 18 I should have toned things down. I just couldn't seem to rid myself of the girlish practices of writing poems about my beloved, and trembling each time I read them aloud.

_Oh Arnold,_ I scribbled feverishly, _How I long to be in your arms as the wind moves your hair like wheat, to feel my heart flutter as we kiss, and to suckle at your sweets. _I smiled evilly as I penned my feelings down on paper, feeling excited and ready for the release that was bound to come.

"Ohhh!" I quivered as I threw the diary down as the calm washed over my body. It relaxed my every nerve.

"Hay Merriam, have you seen my white belt?" Bobbed yelled just outside my door, "I can't close this huge deal with out it." I got up from the bed stormed out.

"Criminey, can't I get some quite around here!" I spotted Merriam walking to Bob in slow and jagged movements. _Drunk before lunch, nice one Merriam, _I thought. Normally she waited till the afternoon.

"Maybe Olga has it," she slurred; "So why don't you ask her while I get another smoothie" I noticed that she seemed even more wasted then usual. Not only was Merriam's speech sluggish, her steps seemed jerked and shaky, like she had to force herself to budge across the hall.

"Hay Olga," Bob said, "Got my belt?"

"My name is Helga!" I glared.

"Do you got it or not! I have this vary important meeting and I have to look my best or else I won't sell!"

"Why would I have it Bob?"

"Don't play games with me kid!"

"Kid! I'm 18!" I shaped my brow into a deep V. I saw his face turn russet red as he continued to screech at me, his eyes boiling out of his sockets with rage. His hair melted down to his scalp with sweat.

I watched his face cook for a little while longer before noticing my mother. She was crawling along the walls feeling the paper as she went. Merriam gripped on to corners, looking for the railing that was right beside her.

"I think I fount it! WAAA!" Before anyone could catch her, Merriam fell head first down the flight of stairs. I could hear her smashing on the steps as she dropped, some of her bones cracking on the hardwood. Bob rushed to her just in time to see her crash on the stair's landing.

"Funny, I don't feel a thing Mr. Postman," Merriam giggled. Looking at her bruised and busted body, Bob shouted,

"Cripes Olga! Call 911!" Now I was scared. Never in my life had I seen my mother go beyond her everyday buzz, and this was way beyond. I walked slowly to her pile of mangled limbs, amazed that a simple stair fall could produce this. She looked liked a Picasso painting, only battered and bloody.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Bob demanded. I heard him, and yet I hadn't heard him. His words passed through my mind like air. I tried desperately to comprehend them but it hard; each one drew a bigger blank then the last. Suddenly, the room grew fuzzy. My vision blurred like TV snow. Yet, just as suddenly, I snapped back into the moment.

"PHONE! NOW!" I ran to pick up my cordless and dialed, not sure what to do next. I breathed heavy as I waited for someone to be reached. I could heed the old windbag yelling, but his words were fading out again. All I could hear was the annoying ring on my phone

"911 emergency, what's your address?" I shook as I gave it, and then, in panicked gasps, I explained what happened. I noticed that the woman at the other end didn't say anything as I talked, and that irritated me.

"What's your name dear?" the woman finally asked.

"Helga… Helga Pataki."

"Ok Helga, I want to you leave your mother as is until the ambulance arrives. Trying to move her could worsen things."

"That's it! That's all you're going to say!"

"I'm sorry, but that's all you can do. The ambulance should be there shortly, goodbye!" As the cheerful woman clicked off, I felt afraid. My mind fluttered with a thousand ideas of what would happen next: body castes, hospital visits, and what if Merriam really had to go to rehab this time? She was quite good at faking sobriety around those who cared to address her growing problem, but could she do it now with all her bashes and marks? Could she escape rehab? Could I survive being alone with Bob?

Hearing the blare of the siren, I rushed down to find my mother being rolled on a stretcher into the back of the medical van parked on the front lawn.

"I don't need this! I can walk!" Merriam yelled, laughing. Big Bob stood by and snarled, too busy to care. Looking at his watch he quickly jumped in his car and drove off, leaving me all alone. _This can't be happing,_ I thought, wide-eyed,_ my mom's about to reach the loony bin and Bob does not care. He just drives off to some stupid meeting! What he HELL is so freaking important about freaking beepers anyway!_ My mind swirled with thoughts that raged from anger, to sadness. I continued to watch the E. M. T.'s roll Merriam inside the ambulance. I stared at the flashing lights, totally ignoring the sounds around me. I barely noticed my Arnold coming down the street.

"What's going on Helga!" he asked. I started to say something, but then stopped, too shocked to explain.

"My….my…my stomach is growling. Lets eat already Arnoldo!" I said as I walked off to the pizzeria. I ate in complete silence. No matter what, or how he asked, I just chewed noisily, staring off into space.

"Come on, Helga. It's me, Arnold. Whatever you say will be between just us. Only you and me. No one else has to know." He reached his hand out to mine. I tore it away fast as I stood up.

"Lets go. I'm board," I said, slurping my soda loudly. And like that, I walked out. Arnold tried again throughout the week, but was met with a wall. I simply talked about other things, like my prized wresting tapes. It pained me to keep brushing him off, but I found it hard to do anything else. It was like I programmed to avoid it.

"Are you at least talking to Phoebe about it?" he asked me one night. I rested my arms firmly under my chest, glowering.

"What's it to you, football head. I'm fine. So quit asking ok?" By Friday I was at my worst. Merriam had been hospitalized for nearly a week and had no signs of getting out. It seemed that with her cracked bones and huge black-and-blue marks the hospital would not let her go without a mandatory stay in the hospitals rehab wing. It meant three months alone with no one but Bob. I didn't know if I could stand it.

"Stop asking! I can survive!" I screamed at Phoebe that next Monday. She jumped back, falling on the floor.

"All I asked was were your mother was. You didn't have to yell Helga."

"Yea, well…I'm going to Arnolds! So get lost!" I stormed out of my room, leaving Phoebe to stand alone in it.

It was nighttime when I made to the boarding house. I knocked on the door and waited to be let in, feeling pretty low about how I treated my best friend. I thought about going to her house and apologizing. But I knew that if I did, I would have to talk about Merriam. And I was not ready. It was still so new to me.

_At least I'm at the Shortman's now,_ I sighed,_ and I hope they ask me to stay for dinner. It'd be nice to have a real family meal for once._

"Oh, hey there Helga," grandpa Phil smiled as he answered the door. "Arnold's in his room." I started toward it before Phil tugged on my arm.

"Mind if I talk to you a minute?" I turned to face him in total silence, my visage blank of emotion.

"I don't mean to pry…but Shortman's said you've been vary unpleasant all week. Now, I don't know why that is, but….Uh…I was thinking… If you ever needed a room to get away in for a couple hours, I'd be happy to lend you one. It's not like you'd pay any rent, I'd just be there for when you need be alone for a while." I could not believe what I was being offered. Phil could have easily rented that space out for extra cash but was choosing to give it to me instead.

"But… I…"

"Just give me a ring when you want it, alright?" I nodded yes slowly, totally stunned by his generosity. "Ok then, you kids have fun. Opps! Gotta go file something in the office." Phil dashed off.

I started towards Arnold's room again, unsure of what to make of Phil's idea. The thought buzzed in my mind. _A whole space to be me, a…place that I can…well…who knows what! How can he just offer it to me like that? He doesn't even know why I'd need it!_

"Oh, came to not talk to me some more? No thanks Helga," Arnold said coldly when I reached his room. He didn't even look at me as he spoke. He just stood there shelving books. It hurt me to see it. But it hurt more to know I had started it. My week of solid silence caused me to shut out the one of the two people in my life who I really needed. Yet, I didn't know how to begin talk about it.

Bu then I thought I of Phil's idea. If he could do that, then I should at least try to do this.

"Merriam is in rehab Arnold," I sighed darkly, "My mother… is in rehab."

"What?"

I never did mention it to Arnold, but the proposal of the room meant more to me then anything else in the world. I couldn't take it of course; I wouldn't know how to ask. But the idea alone showed that Phil saw me as family. He was able to look past my mean demeanor and take me, as me. No restrictions applied.

Arnold parked the car in the hospital's parking lot. He sighed heavily as he rested his head and hands on the wheel.

"God," he sobbed, "I really hope he's ok." I rubbed my hands around his convulsing back to sooth him, feeling the baby kick wildly as I did.

"Me too, Arnold, me too."


	4. 9:15PM

9:15PM

We sat in depressing blue cushioned chairs that lined the back wall of the waiting area. Our seats were the only bit of color in the room, save for the coke and snack machines on either side of us. The rest was a mix of gray, stale white, and off. If I hadn't known better, a dead person might have helped designed this room. There was not a trace of life in it. It even smelled like a morge. I wrinkled my nose at it, but couldn't get it away from the reek of heavy sanitizers and old snacks. I started to wonder how the hospital could not clean away the stench.

"There should at least be some corporate art," I sighed, "I feel like we're in a tomb of uglyless and mess. Crimeny." Arnold turned to look at me. I could see by his sour face that he didn't my choice of words. I put a hand on his and held it tightly while another cramp hit me, the second one of the night.

"You ok over there Ma-ma Bird?" Gertie asked. She was sitting on the other chair by my husband. She lay on her side to face me.

"I'm fine. At least, I hope I am. I think these are just the practice pains before the real thing." I ran my free hand around the whole of my abdomen, trying my best to ignore it. We already had enough to deal with.

"Are you sure you're ok Helga?" he said. He sat up to look at me fully as he smoothed his hands around my arms. His face looked so old, aged by the stress of the night. The bags under his eyes were usually unnoticeable, but now they were easy to see. They seemed large enough to carry a weeks worth of food. The soft lines on his face became more apparent. His eyes were rapped in a layer of tears.

"You don't need to worry about me guys. I'm fine, great even!" I laughed nervously. Arnold paused his hands on the top of my belly. He waited till he felt our baby kick before me moved them, sighing.

"If you say so." After a few more moments we slipped back into silence. We could hear the clock ticking in the corner as time slugged forward. I hated that sound. Anything could happen under that sound and it wouldn't change, not a pitch. It would just tic on.

"Ok," the Doctor said as he finally walked to us. He was young man of thin build, not much older and then Arnold and myself. I looked at his chestnut hair and fire orange eyes and thought about how capable he could be. He looked too fresh out of med school. "The nurses and I were able to stable him and get him to sleep. We're waiting for few more tests results to come in. While we do, I'll be asking you a few questions to help determine the best course of action." He got out a clipboard and pen, grunting loudly.

"Please excuse my demeanor. I have been working twelve-hour shifts and I hoped your grandfather would be an easy bed to clear." He started to jot something down, focused on the forms in front of him. I slouched back a little, feeling the same strange twinge from before. It was like a menstrual cramp, only stronger and more definite. I tried my best not let my face show how much it hurt.

"Does your grandfather usually eat fatty foods?" The Doctor asked when he looked up.

"No, unless you count the Chinese we had tonight," Arnold replied.

"Ok, and what about his meds. Does he take any aspirin…Viagra, that sort of thing?" Arnold stiffened uneasily at the question, blushing slightly while he sputtered out the answer.

"Well-well," he started, "I don't see him take much except something for headaches every now and again. The other…thing…the Vi-"

"He was NOT called Steely Phil for nothing!" Gertie interrupted, "He sure gives my pussy something to purr about. Why just this morning he-"

"Grandma! No one needs to know that!" Gertie flush red, suddenly shameful of her response.

"Actually, that information might help. Without going into it Mrs. Shortman, I take it that you and your husband had intercourse this morning?" Gertie stood proudly as she slapped her hand on her heart, nodding firmly.

"We did our duty to the party!" I giggled at the nineteen eighty-four reference while Arnold just sank in his chair in embarrassment. I had to hand it too her, even in a time of dire sadness she was able to pull of a joke. If I'm lucky I'll be like her when I age. She's got spunk. The Doctor did his best to hide a grin as he scribbled down the answers.

"All right then. That should be all for now. We'll get you as soon we know more." He was about to walk off when he spotted me. He raised a brow at my round stomach. I gripped my armrests with full force as I tried to adjust myself into a better position. The pain was turning sharp before slowly winding down.

"If you don't mind me asking Helga, how far along are you?" I looked at the inquisitive doctor, hating his question. He had a dying man to save. Not me.

"What's it to you?" I scoffed, "I'm not the one in the emergency room. Ow! Fuck!" The pain continued to grind, not waning like I thought it would. Before I could say anything more, the doctor dashed to the nearest room and buzzed for a nurse. I panted hard, wanting desperately to calm my body down. Arnold grabbed my hand, gazing deep within my eyes. He didn't have to say a word for me to know what he was thinking. _Just breathe Helga. Just breathe._


	5. 10:15PM

10:15PM

I was rolled into a room that looked not much different from the waiting area. In fact, it was on a floor just above it. Despite my insistence that I was fine, the nurse wouldn't let me go until I was at least seen by the resident obstetrician. As much as I tried to, I could not find a reason not to be checked out. Maybe the doctor could stop this, I thought.

The ER nurse sent Arnold to check in at the maternity wards front desk while I waited for the room's assigned nurse to show. I was told the obstetrician would come shortly after that.

"I knew it! I knew you were ready to hatch Ma-ma bird," Gertie said as she took a seat next to me. "I've got the eye. Plus, after birthing a head like his fathers, you get to know the look, and boy, did you have the look. So shocked! Don't you worry. It will get much more painful." My eyes winded at her comment. Painful? Wasn't she supposed say something nice and encouraging? I groaned as I thought about the contractions to come, leaning back into my head raised bed. So much was happening. Phil, me, and then there was Arnold. How could he handle me in labor and the possibly of Phil dying? No one said he was, but no one said he was getting better either. There was still so much to figure out. As far as I knew, anything could happen.

"Knock-knock! The nurse is here!" I bolted up when he entered. His voice made my skin crawl in droves. "Well-well, what a surprise this is! Me, the old teacher of Helga and Arnold get to help them usher in a new generation, a brand new addition and homage to their love! What a sight!" Mr. Simmons gushed as he burst in. He was a pushing a fetal monitor and happily trotted to the outlet beside my bed and started setting it up.

"What are you doing here?" I growled.

"I'm the rooms assigned nurse for the night. I was so happy when I found out that I just couldn't hold it in! One stop to the little boys room and I'm here! Oh, but I see someone who's not. Where is Arnold?"

"Checking in," Gertie said, "I'm the soon-to-be great-Grandmother."

"Well, nice to see you again! This IS fun!" He smilingly shook her hand and then went back to prepping the machine. In his hands I saw two long spandex straps attached to thick circles at the end. He was about to strap them on me before I batted them away.

"You still didn't answer my question bucko! Why is my 4th grade teacher IN HERE!" Mr. Simmons bent down and picked up the straps. He averted my glare, choosing instead to look at Arnold who walked in.

"Well there he is! The father-to-be! It's about time you showed up!" I smiled widely, holding out my hands for him. Another stabbing spasm started up when reached me. I gripped his wrists fast, gasping for breath.

"Everything is ok Helga, just breathed like we practiced." I looked at Arnold, my eyes going wide when the pain got intense. It felt like someone was dragging a sharp knife over my soft skin. "Come on, in and out. In…" he made the motions, puffing and deflating his chest to show how much air I needed. I sucked it in fast at first, but then slowly, studying Arnold's eyes to keep calm as the pain let up.

"Oh thank god it's over," I whispered, "Jesus, that one hurt." Arnold fastened on a moment longer before kissing the top of my head. He then got into the seat closest to me and leaned my way.

"Now isn't that sweet!" Gertie said. Out of the small spot in my eye I could see Mr. Simmons welling up. He put his hands over his mouth to conceal a smile that made me want to deck him. I'm riving in pain and he grins like it's some stupid hallmark movie.

"It's moments like this that make me glad I quit teaching. It's rare that you can see the power of love at work!" He exhaled happily.

"So why did you quite Mr. Simmons? I thought you'd be there your whole life," Arnold asked. He broke away from my gaze and sat upright. I did the same. It was so strange to see Mr. Simmons dressed in nurse scrubs. I was so used to seeing him in his sweater vest and crisp white shirt. It was all he practically wore. He started toward me again, talking as he moved.

"I thought so too Arnold, but you don't need to hear about that," he said, making sure not look at anyone as he organized the fetal monitor bands. I saw his smile go slack before he forced himself revive it.

"Lets get you all hook up and see what's going on in there!" He pulled back my sheets again and quickly strapped me in before I had the chance to move. He then took care to even out the two bands, placing one near the middle of me, while the other rested slightly lower. Suddenly I heard a strange sound. It was like a thump, only warped.

"Here," Simmons said as he pointed to the to corner of the monitor screen, "Is the heartbeat. Under it is the line that shows your contractions. I have to stress that it only shows how far apart they are, not how strong they can be."

"What's that strange sound?" Arnold asked.

"Don't be silly dad," he smiled, "That is the sound of the heart beating!" I whipped my head around to hear it more clearly.

"That's it?"

"You bet. Strong too. This child is going to be a strong one. I can see it already." Simmons watched the monitor a moment, looking at my contraction line. He furrowed his brow, rubbing his chin in concentration. "How far apart did you say your pains were?"

"We didn't have a chance to time them," Arnold said, "But if we had to guess, about 15 minutes apart."

"Gee, those are quite far apart. Usually when you get here your contractions are four minutes apart and lasting about one minute. Let me go get the doctor. Be right back."

I settle into my bed again, resting on the raised head and pillows. Arnold turned to face me. For a while no one seem to say much. We just sat around, waiting. The tic of the clock filled the room again, leaving nothing else but our thoughts. How could I go into labor now? How could do this Arnold and Gertie? They didn't deserve this. If my baby had any sense it would calm down and wait. If only I had that kind of luck.

"Arnold…" I began, "I…I…OH FUCK!" A large contraction took held of me, spreading from hipbone to hipbone. I gripped Arnold's hand harder, bruising it. I tried to breathe but each exhale became a loud scream. I felt scared; wondering if I could survive this.

"Come on Helga, breathe…" Arnold asked. Mr. Simmons rushed back in with the doctor who quickly checked the monitor. I barely had time to recognize her.

"It's ok, people. Just a contraction," she stated as she glanced at the monitor screen, "Seems to be ending now." I sighed it as ease off, slowly giving my body back to me. When it finished I looked to see who the doctor was.

"Phoebe!"

"Yep that's me. I normally don't come into today but the other obstetrician called in sick," she said as she shooed Simmons out of her way. "Little room please." She slapped on a glove and raised up the bottom half of my blanket. Daftly, she stood in just the right spot so she only could see what was going on down below. It didn't take her long for her cold fingers to find themselves in my vaginal opening.

"Criminy Phoebs, are you using icicles!" She giggled at the comment and stood up.

"Sorry. My hands are still chilly from the rain," She flicked the gloves off into the trashcan. "Well, you're diffidently in labor now. You're about three centimeters dilated so you have a long way to go." I groaned.

"Oh, come on. Helga. Lighten up. Women have been doing this since the dawn of time. I think you can manage." Phoebe looked at her watch. "Well, that's it for now. I'll be back a little later to see how you're progressing." She turned to leave, passing another doctor on the way out.

"Oh hay Dr. Fits, what are you doing here?" It was the doctor from the floor below.


	6. 10:45PM

10:45 PM

Dr. Fits had a frown on his face that made him even thinner, and scary. He stood in the center of the room. Everyone gathered around him, his funeral face making us eager to hear what he had to say. Arnold was still sitting next to me, gripping on to my hands. He looked afraid. Gertie patted his back. Mr. Simmons and Phoebe sat in the chairs by the monitor.

"The news I have is not good. There appears to be a sizable heart blockage that we have to deal with surgically first thing in the morning. This is a fairly routine operation that we do quite often here, but I have to worn you that because of his advanced age he may have difficulty healing properly."

"What do you mean healing properly?" I shouted, "Don't just spat vague words at us! SAY IT!"

"Normally," Dr. Fits started nervously, looking right at us, "It would take a small matter of weeks before the patient has recovered. With Phil Shortman, however, I don't know how long it will take. It could be as much as two months before he's better, and that's if he doesn't get sick from infection. Frankly I surprised he didn't have a heart attack sooner. You're lucky he's not dead." Gertie shot up at that. She pounded her feat into tiled floor like a war general as she marched to Dr. Fits.

"You quack! How dare you come to us and say that. Have you no faith in the man?" She said as she slapped his face hard. "HAVE YOU NO FAITH IN STEELY PHIL!" Her words jerked out of her, stumbling to hide her sudden sadness. Dr. Fits held on to the wall as he steadied himself, amazed at Gertie's strength.

"I'm sorry," he said softly when steady, "But this is what we have to deal with now."

"But why?" Arnold exclaimed. "It's not right!" I nodded my head at that, making sure Fits saw my unpleased stare.

"No," the doctor said, gulping, "It just is."

"So, what can we do?" Arnold asked. He ran his fingers through his hair and adjusted his hat, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his knees.

"Visit with him. Once he's out of sugary he'll be too wiped out to see anyone. I'll go and let the nurses know you're coming since it's after usual visiting hours." He turned and left somberly, walking as though he just did something horrible. And I guess he had. His steps echoed through the room, waning softy as he carried on.

I could not believe what was happening. My head ached from the tears I didn't want to shed. How could Phil be so close to death? How can this great man fall so soon? I knew he was not young anymore, but he always seemed it. Just last week he was telling the local kids about the Great Pig War with no trouble at all, animating his hands wildly. And now he was in a hospital bed

"I guess we'd better go now. We'll be back as soon as we can," Arnold said sadly. He kissed me gently and left, leaving me with Mr. Simmons and Phoebe.

"I'd better get a move on too. I really should make my rounds now."

"But Phoebe!" I protested, "You can't just leave me."

"I have to, Helga. I can't be with you all night. It's not fare to other woman. Do you want me to get you anything before I go?"

"Ice chips, I guess."

"Getting!" She dashed off fast and soon returned with a heaping cup of them. She handed them over and left. I started to chew them down like potato chips. I let the cool of them wash over my overheating body. Mr. Simmons took Arnold's seat next to me after he checked the monitor.

"You seem to coming along well," he said. I looked at him, chewing. I was not ready for some touchy feely moment I knew he was aching to have. I didn't want to be one of those women who cry out her secrets in labor. It's so cliché, and yet I could tell it was just what Sir Gushes-a-lot wanted me to do. Its what always wants, and I wasn't ready to give it to him. Not yet.

Another contraction hit me. I breathed rhythmically, tensing up. Mr. Simmons held out his palm for me to take but I put mine up to his face instead. It got more intense, lasting longer then the usual thirty seconds. I crunched up my legs as the contraction spread around my belly.

"Get me the epidural!" I gasped.

"I can't do that without Phoebe. We have to wait for her." Mr. Simmons stated.

"Are you fucking kidding me," I screeched. I panted, now panicking over how harsh the pain was getting. It was like someone was turning an abdominal crank way up. After another grueling thirty seconds the grave spasm finally ended.

"Oh thank god. I thought it was never going to end."

"But it did, and you made it through like a real trooper." He went to get a wet cloth to dab away the sweat. I pushed his hands off, despite that I was too tired to. I hated to admit it, but that last one really whipped me out. Gertie sure didn't lie.

"Did you call your parents yet Helga?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Why? I think they'd like to know you're here."

"Oh, so you can read their minds now?"

"Look, I know they may not have been the best, one parent-teacher conference told me that. But at least they should know you're going to be a mother. Wouldn't you want your baby to know them?"

"What's your deal anyway, you still didn't explain why you're here and not jabbering off some 4th graders head." He turned his face away, sighing.

"It's a very long story," he said. I rubbed my belly some.

"It's not like I'm going anywhere." Mr. Simmons got up from his chair and walked to the window, looking out at the purple dark sky. From what I could see, his expression looked somber, depressed.

"If you'd really like to know, I left. I never imagined I ever do that. I really did think I'd be there till my death bed." His voice lowered, wavering in pitch like he was about to cry. "A few years back Principle Moss left to pursue his life long dream of going to the jungle. I was happy for him, but not with the person that replaced him. Mrs. Finnegan was such a mean woman, always screeching at everyone and everything. The way she treated the children I wouldn't be surprised if someone found a spanking paddle in her office…" he put his hands on the window, breathing on it. "I tried to understand her ways. I thought that if I could just get to the heart of why she was so curt, I could help change her. After that failed I deiced it was best to transfer to another school. But…" he sobbed lightly, "There were no openings. I didn't know what else to do. So I quit. I just walked right into that old bags office and gave my resignation. You have no idea how hard that was. My life, Helga, my LIFE was in that classroom at PS 118. And I ended it." Mr. Simmons looked away from the window and came to me. "I did some odd jobs for a while, dog trainer, food prep… but nothing made me happy. So, I looked at my results from the aptitude test and found that under teacher, it also listed nurse. I was in nursing school shortly after and here," he sighed as his eyes glazed over, "I am."

I could not help but feel bad for the guy. Thinking about how he had to walk away from the one thing he loved made me sad. That's when I realized that there were two hurting people in the room.

"I don't want to call my parents because I hate them. Sure, they raised me, and they did give me food and all, but there was no love. Not a freaking scrap. The only time my parents ever got it into their little heads that I more then a mouth to feed was when they were usually about to go nuts." My face blotched over in a mixture of anger and misery.

"When my mom took over my dad's store she made my lunch for like a week before she got all business like and dropped me like a bad sale. My dad only paid attention to me when Olga was too sad to talk, or when he made some sad attempt to father me with crappy theater tickets. And what's really shitty about this whole thing is that the one father figure who showed me love is about to die. Phil Shortman is about to die and I-OW! FUCK!" Another contraction pinned me hard, and this time I didn't push Nurse Simmons hands away.


	7. 5:00AM

5:00AM

Arnold wet the cloth again, wiping away my sweat. He looked dead tired, though he didn't complain. He simply smiled as he kissed my forehead and did the zillions of other things to keep me comfortable. Except talk about Phil. Ever since they came back neither one of them said a word about him. They just resumed their posts. Arnold next to me with Gertie on his side.

"How did he look?" I asked for the billionth time.

"We don't have to talk about him now," Arnold said, "He's a strong guy. He can get through this."

"But how do you know that!" I distressed. He shushed me as he brushed away the bangs from my eyes, trying his best to look happy. Mr. Simmons studied the fetal monitor while Phoebe studied me. Thankfully her hands had warmed.

"Well, that's a rap people. Ten centimeters and none to go," she said as she flicked her cloves into the trash. "Mr. Simmons could call for a delivery room?" She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "I am so excited!" Nurse Simmons went to the rooms intercom system and started talking in some hospital speak I could not make out. I grunted though another contraction, feeling tired, sad, and ready to do anything to end my agony. The night was taking its toll on me.

"You can do this Helga. Come on, breathe it out," Arnold cooed, stroking my face. I took huge gulps of air and let them out slowly, bracing myself.

"Don't get tense, you have to relax," Phoebe said. Another nurse rolled in a transport bed next to mine while Mr. Simmons unhooked the fetal monitor straps. He smoothed away the gel he used for their placement and gently lowered my gown.

The contraction ended and suddenly I felt like this was happening to someone else. Phoebe and Simmons swirled around me, lifting me up, setting me on the bed, and pushing me out of the room.

"Good luck Helga," Nurse Simmons waved before turning back into the old room. The hall seemed faded, like a huge cloud had settled in around me. I could hear Arnold talking to me, but his words were hard to get. It wasn't until we got into the large delivery room that my head cleared. The funny thing was I didn't remember how we got there. I tried to recall the details of the hall and the people we might have seen on the way, and got nothing.

"Ok, hear we are." Phoebe said. They rolled me into a large room that had more machines then I could find uses for. The walls were a soft cream of pink. The bed next to me looked like the one in other room, only it had long loop-like handles on the head of it. When I was placed into it I noticed that it was more comfrey only there were no blankets.

"How are you feeling?" Arnold asked as she stood near me. He took my hand and rubbed his up and down my arm.

"How do you think she's feeling Grasshopper? She's about to crap out a head like yours!" She laughed. I growled.

"Oh, come on Ma-ma Bird, I heard Stella was nearly knocked unconscious when she was having this one, so I'd say your lucky!"

"Will you stop talking about the size of his head!" I shouted, "You're freaking me out!"

"Would everyone PLEASE calm down!" Phoebe directed as she placed my feet in the cold metal stirrups. "Alright, now you're going feel the urge to push, and that's good, but you should only push DURING a contraction." Phoebe directed again, smiling. Before I could think about what the urge might feel like another pain stabbed me, ripping out my insides. I screamed, flailing my arm around like a dying bug.

"OH MY GOD!" Arnold moved back some, not sure what to do. I could hear Phoebe telling me something, but my body was too gripped up in utter thought stopping hurt to listen. I whipped my head around to see Arnold, who looked just as scared as I did. That's when I felt something. It was like a slight tickle, only different. Soon, after what seemed like hours of stinging and tearing I finally understood what Phoebe meant. I had push like I was going to the bathroom.

"Come on, give us a big one," I heard my best friend say. I tensed up and then relaxed, gathering myself for what I had to do. It felt so weird, yet so right, like I was born to do this. I pushed hard, then harder as the contraction slowed. When it ended I stopped cold

"I can see the head! I can-oh wow that's some head! Holy Cow!" Phoebe exclaim. Another knife cutting contraction sliced at me and I started pushing again, wanting to scream everyone into silence. I sensed the head coming and it felt like a thousand punches hitting me inside and out. Then, something slipped. The punches inside waned and soon some unknowable object slithered out. It was large, yet felt so fragile and small.

"You did it Ma-ma Bird!" Gertie said as she slapped her knee. "I knew you would!" Arnold said the same, as did Phoebe. But I was too wiped out to hear them. Arnold cleaned my forehead and kissed me passionately.

"Were is he?" I asked when I broke away from the embrace.

"Getting cleaned up. Don't worry. He's right over here." Phoebe said. We all looked over and saw a nurse rapping him up. I nearly fainted when I saw his dome. It was just like Arnolds. In fact, most of what I saw looked like Arnold save for my eyes and nose. His body looked freakishly small under his sizeable head, or maybe that's how he looked all bundled up.

Arnold ran his hands around my arms again, being gentle.

"I can't believe that's him," he said.

"I know…." I wept slightly.

"He really is amazing."

"You bet grasshopper."

"Truly amazing," Phoebe gushed. Everyone quieted when the nurse brought him over. I held my hands out before she could reach me, too eager to hold the thing that almost made want death. When I finally got him into my hands I knew I never wanted to let him go. There was this overwhelming sense that who I was, and who I was meant to be, is his mother. Sappy, I know. But one look at his tiny smile and I was hooked. My whole world was him now.


	8. 1PM

1PM

I woke to the sound of crying. I immediately got up and went the bassinet next to the hospital bed.

"Come here you," I said, picking him up. "What's got you all exited huh? You know I only four hours of sleep right? And don't you want mommy fully rested?" I don't know how, but I sensed that he was hungry. So, like the nurses had showed me, I opened up my gown and presented him with his meal. He eyed them both before choosing my left tit with full conviction. It felt harsh at first, but then less so when my son got a steady flow of milk. I gently got back into bed and found a comfy position to feed in. It was kind of nice, and I don't know why. Before he got here all I could think about was Arnold and Phil, and now that he was here all I could think about was him.

"Hay, you're up," Arnold said as he entered the room, "I thought you'd still be sleeping."

"Nah, not with this little guy wanting food." I smiled, and then frowned. "How was Grandpa? Did he look ok?"

"I'm not going to lie to you. He's seen better days. But I really do think he's going to be ok. I mean, he's a strong guy. I do believe that."

"And generous…don't forget that."

"I guess it is generous of him to let us live rent free in the boarding house."

"It's more then that," I said, unhooking my son. I gently burped him before settling him back into the bassinet. "Did I ever tell what offered me?" Arnold cocked a brow in confusion, taking a seat next to me.

"I never mentioned this because I knew I'd never take it. But," I exhaled, "I want to tell you now. Do you remember the day I told you about my mother's stay in rehab?" He did. "Well, what made get over my feelings of hurt and tell you about it was your grandfather. On my way to see you Phil pulled me aside and told me that if I wanted, I could have a free room for myself anytime. He didn't ask about my family, or why I'd need a room. He just offered it. And I thought… if he could be that open with me, then I have to be that open with you. So I was." Arnold smiled.

"That does sound like something he'd do."

"And that's why I think we should name our son Phil." I sobbed. Arnold grabbed a tissue and handed it to me. I dabbed my eyes, but they wouldn't dry. I was crying too much, breathing in jagged gasps. Phoebe had warned I might be emotional, but this was getting to be too much. I felt like the weight of the world was upon me, forcing me to care about everyone and everything.

"I don't want my the only family I ever had to die," I wept, "I deserve to have it a little longer, don't I?" Arnold sat on the bed and got close to me. He hugged me tight against his body as I let it out. He rubbed my back, shushing me.

"What about your parents Helga? I know it does not seem like it, but they do love you." Bringing them up made me cry harder.

"If they loved me would show it. If they loved me they would have said it. Phil always did no matter what." He smoothed out the tension knots in my lower back, gently working out the twisted folds of tissue.

"Ok, we don't have talk about them then," he said. Arnold stopped rubbing and set me back down into my bed. He pulled the blankets up.

"I think Phil is great name. Phil Shortman. Yea."

"No," I said, putting my hand on his, "I think Philip Arnold Shortman is a great name."


	9. 3AM Next Tuesday

3AM next Tuesday

I sat in a rocking chair in the living room next to the roaring fireplace in as I fed little Phil. I was tired beyond reason, but happy to get up for him. When Arnold saw me wake he offered to help but knew that unless he suddenly grew new parts he would be just standing there. So he helped build the fire beside me instead before going back to bed.

"So there's that little man I hear everyone's been raving about." I looked up and saw big Phil eking down the stairs.

"What are you doing up? You need to get back into bed. That was the agreement you know. You can't just being getting up all the time"

"Oh, what do those quacks know! Nothing but a bunch of ducks in white suits." He took the seat opposite me on the other side of the fire, relaxing with audible Ahhs…

"Come on Phil. You cheated death once, now you're just getting greedy."

"Hay, I can't help if I want to sneak a peek at my great grandson. You never bring the little guy in my room."

"That's because you both should be sleeping." Little Phil finished eating and smiled. I burped him before going to big Phil. I wanted to hand my baby over but I didn't trust Phil's strength. Instead I held out my hands so he could get a good look. Both Phil's smiled.

"Awww, now isn't that cute!" Gertie said as she descended the stairs. She came into the room looked at the two smiling Phils. "Can't get better then that." I sighed happily, agreeing with her.

"Well," I said, "I think it's time to get back to bed. And so should you!" I looked sternly at Phil who didn't seem too eager to go. I started to walk out when I saw Arnold.

"Couldn't get back to sleep," he yawned.

"Sorry Arnold. We're coming up now," I yawned back. He went to his grandfather.

"What are you doing up? You know you can't be out of bed," he said.

"Already tried, he's not moving." I heard some clanking from the upper floor.

"Will you guys shut up!" Ernie Potts yelled. "I got this sweet place to demo in the morning and it would be NICE if I could be fresh for it!" He slammed his door and clamored our way, making more noise then we were. He saw us all peering around the baby and paused.

"Would you look at that," he said. "Get a load of this kid. I bet he's gonna be great with a wrecking ball some day. Just look at that arm!" He chuckled. Soon, everyone came out from his or her rooms to find out the source of the noise. By four in the morning nearly everyone was up and about, getting a look at the newest addition to The Sunset Arms boarding house.

"He looks just like you Arnold! I can't get over it no matter how many times I see it!" Suzie Kokoshka said as slapped her cheeks in shock.

"What about me Suzie? How do I look? hehehe.." Oscar laughed. She turned her head away from him. "Oh, shut up Oscar!" I laughed, and then yawned largely. Arnold saw how tired I was and took our son from me.

"Alright everyone," he said, "Shows over. Time for bed." There were a few grumbles and moans, but soon enough everyone dispersed into their own rooms. I watched Arnold gingerly place little Phil into the bassinet by our bed as I got in. I yawned, pulling the covers up to my shoulders. Arnold nestled in and snuggled close to me. I snuggled back, falling peacefully asleep.


	10. Now Again

NOW

So there it is. My beginning, middle, and end. Did you see any reason for god? Did you find any reason for me to think that some supreme being made this all happen? Nope. Didn't think so. Even though it was pretty amazing for a man Phil's age to live through heart surgery and meet his great grandson, I still call that utter luck. Utter luck that Phil was healthy enough to survive, utter luck that he has a house full of people to care for him, and utter luck that I do as well. Life happens as it happens and all though there my not be a god to hold a Q&A session at the end, we still have to call ourselves utterly lucky that we at least had a ticket to the show.


End file.
